


The Reasons

by CallousHeartz



Series: How Time Decides [6]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Gen, the battle continues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 19:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallousHeartz/pseuds/CallousHeartz
Summary: “you’re right about one thing.”





	The Reasons

**Author's Note:**

> again, this makes a lot more sense if you’ve at least read the previous part of the series.  
> and as always, thanks for reading! mwah xox  
> \- Soph

"Wow. This is bad,"

Kobra pulls a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. He opens it and tips the contents onto the table in front, and Jet raises his brows.

"You know what else is bad? You dumpin' your smokes out all over the damn table instead of just pulling one out the packet like anyone else would," 

Kobra nods, picking one out of the pile and lighting it.  
“Yeah, but this shit's like _proper_ bad. Like, someone's gonna get gutted like a fish sor'a bad," He offers a smoke to Jet, who shakes his head, then continues, "No' a ton a'screaming, though. "I'd 'ave expected more if 'm honest,"

"Same," Jet glances uneasily at the closed door, "And I think that's what's worrying me the most."

               ****

Poison's been stood in the same corner since Ghoul entered the room.  
Arms folded, obviously.  
_Signature pose or some shit,_ Ghoul thinks, his back pressed to the wall on the opposite side of the room, hands shrouded deep in his jean pockets. 

The silence itself feels like another figure in the room, one who watches from the sidelines, hell-bent on raising the situation to a whole new level of excruciating for everyone involved.

And eventually, Ghoul's had enough of their presence.

"Alright," He's not looking at Poison as he speaks - his eyes are fixed firmly on the wall beside him.  
"You wanna know the truth? Why I came over here today?"

"If I didn't wanna know, why'd I ask?"  
Comes Poison's sardonic reply. 

Ghoul brushes it off, resuming like he never spoke,

"Truth is, I don't know."

Poison snorts. “Well, that answer was worth the wait,"

"I'm not finished," Ghoul says with a scowl, "Let me talk,"

"Go on, then."

Ghoul exhales heavily.  
"I really fucking don't like you," He says, "I hope you're aware of that,"

"Yeah, yeah feeling's mutual," Poison gives him a "hurry up" sort of hand gesture, "Just cut to the chase,"

"That's sort of it, though,” Ghoul says, “You piss me off. In a way no one else has ever pissed me off. Everything about you infuriates me,"

“Uh, nice?”

There's something very satisfying about this process. Freeing, in a way. Like sending verbal hits to a smug, human-shaped punchbag.

"Shut it, let me talk. I've never met anyone so far up their own ass," Ghoul continues, fury unravelling further with every word as Poison stands there smirking, “So needlessly fucking.... fucking _poisonous_ "

He hasn't noticed himself stepping forward until now - so absorbed in spitting out everything he's longed to for weeks on end, so caught up in racking his brain for all the right words whilst the opportunity's within his reach - but it seems he has been. 

Because now they're face to face, eye to eye. 

The rock solid ice of Poison's spirit is almost tangible, chilling Ghoul to the bone in a way that makes him want to break eye contact and stare at his own shoelaces, or the cracks in the wall, or the ceiling lights, or _anything_ , anything to thaw away this sensation, anything, anything, anything, so that it'll just leave him be. But he won't. He holds his stare.

" _Poisonous_.” He spits.  
“That's it, that's exactly what you are. Fucking _poisonous_."

And at this, Poison laughs. His eyes dart briefly over Ghoul's face,

"You ain't all that surprised, are you?"  
He's pressed right to the wall now, Ghoul's hands like steel on his upper arms, but he doesn't flinch.  
He just smiles - vicious, proud, sickly - and whispers:  
"Names out here come with their meanings."

Then, with no warning, his boot hits Ghoul's shin.

Ghoul stumbles back, falling into an old floor lamp and gasping as it collapses, before lunging forward and grasping the tips of Poison's long hair. He yanks him in, ignoring his hiss at the shock and pain, and locks an arm hard across his throat.

"Don't say another word to me,"

"Don't tell me what the fuck I can’t do,” Poison half chokes the words out, prying Ghoul's stiff, sweaty arm from his neck with forceful fingers.

Clenching his teeth, Ghoul attempts to throw Poison against the wall, but Poison's elbow strikes his temple fast, and for a second he's a little disorientated.  
He squeezes his eyes shut briefly, and when he opens them, Poison's still got that vile smirk on his lips. Ghoul attempts a punch, but he blocks it swiftly, before sending it right back in his face.

"Tryin' hard, aren't you?" He teases, stepping back and cracking his knuckles.

"Oh, trust me," Ghoul begins, clamping his jaw at the throbbing pain in the bridge of his nose. His eyes are starting to water, blurring his vision, but that doesn’t stop him.  
He grabs Poison by the arm and, not missing a beat, pushes him to the ground and pins him down by the wrists.  
"If I was, that fucking smile would've left your face long ago,"

Gasping with the effort, Poison pulls his leg up fast and shoves his knee into Ghoul's stomach.  
Ghoul swears under his breath, but he doesn't relinquish his grip. He's far from ready to give in. 

And he’s up against an opponent of equal resilience, clearly - he can feel Poison’s pulse racing as he holds his wrists tighter, and he can see the bitter vengeance brewing once again in his liner-rimmed eyes.

"We could've just talked, y'know," Ghoul says, “If you gave enough of a shit to let anyone else speak."

"But you didn't want to,” Poison replies, “Did ya?"

For some reason, Ghoul feels the need to relax his grip just a bit.

"What?"

"You didn't want to," Poison repeats, "Otherwise you'd never have come over here. You wanted _this._ You wanted a fuckin' fight. Because you always want a fight, Ghoul, don’t ya? You want someone to take your anger out on."

Ghoul's silent.

That's the first time Poison's ever said his name.

And he spat it like dirt - just like Ghoul spits his.

Now he lets go. He stands up, watching with a blazing hatred in his eyes as Poison does the same.

"You know what, Poison?" He says. His hands are still shaking, and he clenches them into tight fists to try and stop it, "You're right about one thing.  
Yeah, sure, I came here looking for a fight. I won't deny that. But there was _purpose_ in it. I had my reasons. And I tried to give you them, but you're too fucking immersed in yourself to listen,"

"And I won't deny that I didn't let you talk," Poison replies coolly, "But that's only 'cause your reasons weren't worth my time. Anyway," He rests his shoulder blades against the wall, "Fight's over now, asshole. You can leave,"

Ghoul heads for the door, flipping him off as he leaves the room.

"Good fuckin' riddance,” Poison calls after him.

               ****

"Well I mean, we did talk. A bit,"

Ghoul and Kobra are sitting round the back of the diner, smoke drooling from the just-off-the-table cigarettes between their fingers.

"What d’ya mean by 'talked', though?"

Ghoul takes a long, thoughtful drag.

"Well uh, he insulted me, I insulted him, I think we both got punched at some point. That sorta deal, y'get me?"

Kobra nods, stubbing his smoke out, but he's grimacing.  
"Yeah, I get ya."

Considering it's been less than a week since the two last spoke, there isn't much to catch up on; Ghoul casually recounts the last couple nights of using a large rock as a pillow whilst Kobra nods here and there with guilt in his eyes, and Ghoul brushes that off again and again. He _has_ missed this. He’s missed the diner - a couple days of having somewhere solid to sleep. Friends. Security, to an extent. He’s missed it, and that’s at least partially why he returned. He won’t admit it, though; Kobra feels bad enough as it is.

"Doubt I'd last as long as you 'ave running solo out 'ere, dude," Kobra admits, "You've gotta be a real fighter. And uh... pretty oblivious, too - no offense or anything though,"

Ghoul shrugs,  
"Finding a crew ain't no walk in the park. You and Jet are the only decent people I've spoken to more than once out here, I swear,"

               ****

Jet grabs Poison's arm as he turns away again.

"C'mon,"

Poison tugs his arm away and scowls.  
"I don't wanna talk any more about this shit today, Jet.”

"You’ve said it yourself a thousand times,” Jet sighs, “We've got too many fuckers against us already, we can't afford to go out there and make our own enemies," 

Poison flops into a booth.  
"He was the one who actively headed over here to pick a fight for his own fuckin' amusement. I had no choice but to retaliate," He justifies "I ain't makin' enemies - I'm defending myself and my damn gang as necessary."

"From what exactly?" Jet grins as he joins him in the booth, "Some slightly angry kid with too much hair gel? And he's actually, like, a pretty decent guy, trust me. Honestly, sometimes you need to let your guard down just a little. And that's coming from _me_ ,"

"He pisses me off," Poison replies bluntly.

" _Everyone_ pisses you off, Poison."

"Yeah, but..." Poison's lost for a moment in the truth of Jet's comment, "He pisses me off more than most. There's just somethin' about him I can't fuckin' stand."

"The fact he dares to challenge your ego, maybe?" Jet teases, and Poison laughs.

"Shut up, you," He lounges back in the seat, picking at what remains of his black nail polish, and adds a little more quietly, "You're not wrong, though,"

"I'm never wrong. I am the all-knowing," Jet jokes.

"Yeah, I'll give ya that, sure."

"And with my great knowledge comes great wisdom,"

Poison looks up.  
"I don't think I like where this is going."

"Oh, you won't," Jet assures him, "But it's gotta go where it's gotta go,"

"Alright. Get it over and done with, then."

"You need to cut Ghoul some slack and focus on our real enemy."  
Poison rolls his eyes, but Jet carries on,  
"Y'know, the one's that's a big scary corporation and not some punk in baggy jeans?"

Poison scoffs,  
"I'm fuckin' Party Poison, I'm allowed more than one enemy."

"Yeah, but this one isn't even a threat," Jet points out, "He's on the same side as us," 

"Nah, he ain't a threat," Poison agrees, "He's just annoying beyond words. And besides, I never gave a shit - he's the one who came over here lookin’ for a fight."

Jet raises a brow.

"He was!" Poison insists, "I just... encouraged him so I could fight back. Simply put, I did nothing."

"A'ight. Well, however you wanna see it - for now at least, I ain't taking any sides on this one,"

               ****

It's getting dark when Kobra finally decides to head back in.

"See ya soon, yeah?"

"I hope so," Ghoul says, "It's been awesome catching up, man. I've missed you," 

"Missed you too. Keep yerself safe, it's a right shit'ole out here,"  
Kobra pulls him into a hug, exhaling softly.

"It's better than the city at least,"

"Anything is," Kobra pats him between the shoulder blades before releasing him, "Night, Ghoul,"

"Night, Kobra. Thanks for talking,"

"Anytime, my dude. Anytime,"

Once Kobra's disappeared back into the diner, Ghoul sinks back down to the ground, pulling up his knees to keep the cold away as best he can. 

He can't stay long - he knows that. But he's got a lot of thinking to do, and getting up to search for shelter in the dark is just about the last thing on his mind right now.

His thoughts keep drifting to earlier's talk with Kobra.  
" _Strong personalities, both a'ya_ ," He'd told him, " _And neither of you are the type to back down. Bound t'make shit a tad difficult_ ,"

 _Strong personalities,_ Ghoul thinks with a smirk, _that's one way of putting it._

Footsteps interrupt his thoughts.

Ghoul's not surprised to see who he sees when he looks up, but he's not exactly filled with dread at the sight of him this time.

"I'm leaving," He mumbles, "So don't you fucking start,"

"I know," Poison replies, "That ain't why I came out here,"

Ghoul watches suspiciously as the scarlet-haired leader sits down by the door.

"If you'll excuse me," Poison says, his usual cold tone firmly in place, "I got a crew to keep watch for. Y'see, some of us have better things to do than search for people to start shit with."

"You really are a piece of shit, Poison," Ghoul remarks.  
Poison turns to face him, and just as he's opening his mouth to reply, Ghoul cuts him off:

"But hey - so am I."

And with that, he leaves.


End file.
